Fortesque's A Liar!
by Salacassera
Summary: A rewrite of an old story. This one tells of what it might have been like when Fortesque was alive.


Fortesque's A Liar!  
  
"Captain of the militia in the time of King Peregrin, Sir Daniel Fortesque found fame when he killed the renegade wizard Zarok. A career soldier raised in the royal household, he was adored by the men under his command and renowned for his loyalty to Gallowmere. It was said that Fortesque was always destined for greatness, with his square jaw,steely gaze and thick shock of hair, black as ravens' wings,he looked every inch the hero."  
  
-Heroes From History, a Retrospective  
  
"So then, after I slew the mighty dragon that was eating all the villagers, I - "  
  
"Captain!" Canny Tim exclaimed, putting down his stone mug of ale. "You actually DID all this?"  
  
"Of course!" Sir Daniel Fortesque said airily, pouring himself some more wine. "Are you calling me a liar?"  
  
"N...no! Of course not, Captain!" Canny Tim cried in a panic. "I just find it hard to believe that anybody can kill a dragon on their own!"  
  
"You'd better believe it." Sir Daniel said, and treated Tim to his famous, roguish grin. "That's why I'm the Captain and you're not."  
  
"True, sir..." Canny Tim had always looked up to his Captain, ever since they had been 5 years old and Daniel had fished him out of the well all by himself. (At least, that's what he had told the poor, shivering and utterly miserable boy afterward. If he had done it by himself, what had all the screaming been for?)  
  
"Were the villagers - the ones who weren't eaten, I mean - grateful after you killed the monster? Did they give you a reward?" he asked.  
  
"Oh, they were crawling around on the ground kissing my feet." Fortesque said, straining his mind to think of some more details he could add to what was already a great story. "They presented me with...ah...500 gold coins, which - "  
  
"Sir! Can I see them?" Cany Tim asked excitedly.  
  
"Um...no."  
  
"Why not, Sir?"  
  
"I've...well, that was a while ago. I spent them all already."  
  
"You just said you did that last week." Canny Tim was now confused.  
  
"Er...time's relative, Tim! I spent it all on fixing this piece of junk you call a sword."  
  
"Oh, okay. But I think your sword's nice!" Canny Tim could be such an idiot sometimes, Fortesque reflected with a grin. That was all right, he wasn't complaining.  
  
"Yeah, so does everybody else. Anyway, Tim..." Fortesque made a big show of looking at the grandfather clock on the wall, "Shouldn't we be getting ready for the ball tonight?"  
  
Canny Tim slapped a gauntletted hand to his forehead and winced. "Right! How could I have forgotten?!"  
  
"Beyond me...let's go." Fortesque nonchalantly tossed a bronze piece to the bartender and they left, ignoring the rather ticked-off-looking sorcerer who had been sitting in the corner evesdropping on their conversation. After they were suitably far away, the sorcerer gripped his wand (that blasted Fortesque had called it a pitchfork once, and he had everyone else doing that as well) and stalked after them.  
  
"I was the one who slew that stupid dragon, with my superior spells!" he muttered. "Do I get any credit? Of course not, it all goes to HIM!"  
  
He went on in that way for quite a while, until he got to his laboratory and slammed the door.  
  
That night, however, was a night to remember. Sir Fortesque had been asked by King Peregrin himself to sit at the high table with he and the visiting Duke, and they had hesitantly allowed Canny Tim to come along.  
  
"Sir Daniel's an absolutely excellent storyteller." His Majesty was telling the noble visitors. "Even better, it's all true!"  
  
The Duke looked at Sir Dan wearily. "That's good, we can use a story in such trying times as these."  
  
"Which one should I tell?" Fortesque asked Canny Tim jauntily. Tim looked thoughtful for a moment, before replying.  
  
"The one you told me in the tavern this afternoon, sir!"  
  
"The Dragon story it is then..."  
  
And he proceeded to tell it.  
  
Sir Daniel had a certain flair for telling stories. Embellishing accomplishments, if you care to be nice. By the time he was done, everyone (even the serving girls) was staring at him with rapt attention, and the Duke turned to Peregrin once everything had died down.  
  
"Majesty, why don't you make this man the leader of your Royal Battilion? He's obviously more than just another Knight Captain."  
  
"You're right." King Peregrin looked over at Fortesque, who was sitting across from him. "Sir Daniel, do you accept?"  
  
"Of course, my liege! Um...can Sir Tim be my second-in-command?"  
  
Peregrin and the Duke looked at the scrawny archer in surprise, but didn't see any other problems with that. The next morning, Fortesque and his friend moved out of the barracks and into the castle proper.  
  
Sir Daniel Fortesque adjusted wonderfully to castle life, although Canny Tim still had some trouble realizing that he no longer had to "sir" everybody. Seeing that Gallowmere hadn't had a war in the past 1,000 years or so, he hadn't much to do. So how did he occupy himself? He roamed about the dungeons, telling people what to do, and basically enjoying the authority that came with his new post.Most of all, however, he liked harassing that twit of a sorcerer, Zarok.  
  
"Where do you think you're going with that dead cat, Zarok?" he asked, looking at the alchemist standing on the stairs. If you had thought Canny Tim was a scrawny wuss, this sorcerer was worse. He had a posture like a hunchback, and had no less than 5 or so extremely thick books in one arm. In the other dangled a black cat, which he swung as he walked.  
  
"To my lab, of course. Move out of the way."  
  
"Address me as sir!" Fortesque exclaimed, grabbing the slimy git by his greasy hair. Zarok simply whacked him over the head with the cat and went inside the dungeon room. Fortesque shrugged, and went to tell the King about the magician's simply uncalled-for behavior. However, his curiousity, certainly stronger than that dead cat's, wouldn't leave him alone. He had to look inside that lab and see what that Zarok was working on.  
  
The next night, he was careful not to wake Canny Tim as he lit a lantern, and very quietly tip-toed down to the dungeons. He was surprised to find that the door wasn't open, and so he simply had to give it a push.  
  
The sorcerer had been doing some late-night reading, and had fallen asleep at his desk, which had several other books opened lying on it. On another table in the corner, was a rather interesting-looking scale model of what looked like a clock, with weird symbols of some sort in place of the normal numbers. But that wasn't what caught his eye- the heap of dead bodies, with spiders crawling over them, and with their eyeballs and/or tongues cut out, did. After getting over his initial shock, Fortesque very quietly patted the sleeping sorcerer's head and crept back up the stairs, back to his room. As he blew out the lantern, he decided to tell King Peregrin the next morning. After all, his job was to protect the kingdom.  
  
"How many times have I told you, the dead are to be honored!" King Peregrin shouted, trembling in anger at the sorcerer who stood sulkily before him. "They are NOT to be playthings of the alchemists!"  
  
Sir Daniel Fortesque stood at his ruler's right side. "Suggested punishment, m'lord?" he asked, trying not to look as smug as he was feeling.  
  
Peregrin thought a moment. "I've had enough of his tricks - banish him from the kingdom!" he shouted, and stormed back into the throne room. Once he was gone, Fortesque allowed himself an evil smirk as he dragged the sorcerer out to the main gate and gave him a swift kick.  
  
One which he regretted about 5 or so years later, of course. We all know the rest of the story. It's history. 


End file.
